


slytherin green

by janteu



Series: lygophilia / begin again [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janteu/pseuds/janteu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of stars, he sees eyes green like emeralds, brilliant and terrifying and inexplicably soft even under the sharp light of the moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slytherin green

Draco drifts into consciousness, grey eyes wide and heart thumping loudly in the silence of the dormitory. Reaching blindly for the wand at his bedside, he casts a quick Lumos and gulps in air like a drowning man. The monsters in his proverbial closet are banging down the door, deep and dark and suffocating. He needs to get out; to feel the clear night air and look up at the dark blue night sky and not the green canopy over his bed. 

He doesn’t bother with shoes, simply running out the door and into the corridor as fast as he can, wand in hand. He races past Filch and out onto the grounds, finally laying down in the grass by the lake and looking up at the dark sky. It’s calming, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the spring air and listening intently to the rustling of wind in the trees and the splashing of water below him.

Draco closes his eyes, arms outstretched, letting himself relax. Forget. All that matters right now is the cool wind on his cheek and the damp earth below him, bringing him back to reality.

He lifts his wand over his head, eyes opening ever so slightly, running his hand down the smooth, polished wood that’s still intact due to Potter. Admitting how much he owes Potter would be unbelievably pathetic, he decides, and puts the wand at his side.

When Draco hears the sound of soft footsteps growing nearer, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Doesn't think about it. Doesn't wonder who it might be. But suddenly he can’t ignore whoever is bothering his moment of deliberately not thinking about Potter, because the interfering bastard is saying,

“Having a nice nap, Malfoy?”

His eyes fly open. Instead of stars, he sees eyes green like emeralds, brilliant and terrifying and inexplicably soft even under the sharp light of the moon.

So he doesn’t say anything, staying quiet like he has ever since the war, and it’s surprisingly easy. Until it isn’t, and then he honestly just wants to be angry and yell at Potter like he could when they were twelve and didn't know better. It slips out anyway.

“Go fuck around somewhere else, Potter, I’m sleeping."

And then Potter is laughing, and Draco wonders how he hasn’t hexed a hole through his gut by now.

“Is something funny, Potter?” he asks scathingly. Much to his mortification, however, Draco feels laughter bubbling up in his chest, and he pointedly looks away from Potter’s infectious lopsided smile.

“Nothing at all,” Potter manages in-between fits of laughter. Draco turns back towards him, looking him in the eye. Bad idea. 

Draco lifts an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth against his will.

“The fuck, Potter,” he mutters softly, but he suppresses the ghost of a smile and glares at Potter as icily as he can manage.

“You amaze me, Draco Malfoy,” says Potter after a minute. Probably to Potter’s delight, it catches Draco more than a little off-guard. Draco resists his extremely strong urge to say something crude, but instead he just lies there, eyes wide open, on the cool, damp grass.

Then, much to his horror, he also has to smother the barrage of high-pitched giggles that threaten to bubble out of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, Potter, but flattery doesn’t work on me,” he sniffs, turning his eyes away and ignoring Potter to the best of his ability. Obviously, it doesn’t work.

Draco’s words only produce a wide smile curving on Potter’s lips. He’s incorrigible, Draco thinks as he glares.

“Oh, no,” Potter says, tapping his chin mock-thoughtfully and not dropping Draco’s gaze, “I’m merely stating the truth.” Draco snorts.

“Yes, and you amaze me, too, Potter,” he says. He was aiming for disdain, but it ended up sounding rather fond. _Fuck._  Potter looks at him with knowing green eyes - slytherin green, Draco realizes - and simply nods, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, and then he’s standing up and walking away, making Draco wonder if he’s simply been dreaming the entire time.

The next day, however, Draco can feel Potter’s eyes on him, and it's almost nostalgic.

_“You amaze me, Draco Malfoy.”_

Draco wonders if anyone has ever said something like that to him before.


End file.
